


Freeway Series

by sterlinglass



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Baseball, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Asami Does Too, Baseball Idiots, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Illustrations, Just Ask Korra, Korra's Got a Great Ass, Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim, Los Angeles Dodgers, Smut, Tacos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-03-26 18:11:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13863129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sterlinglass/pseuds/sterlinglass
Summary: Baseball is the great American past time. Los Angeles plays home to two teams, the Dodges and the Angels. The rivalry is heated, and the season has barely started. All Korra, third basewoman for the Dodgers, wants is to stay focused and hit a ball, but with the Angels catcher, Asami Sato, teasing her and talking her ear off, that's easier said than done.





	1. Exhibition Game

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [DominicKnight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DominicKnight/pseuds/DominicKnight) for editing this disaster into a readable story, and to [campaignofmadness](http://campaignofmadness.tumblr.com/) for indulging me with all the wonderful illustrations. These ladies are the bestest ever! 
> 
> Please do not steal these illustrations and post them in tumblr, weheartit, etc. Respect the artist's wishes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Freeway Series is a Major League Baseball (MLB) interleague rivalry played between the Los Angeles Angels and the Los Angeles Dodgers. The Angels are members of the American League (AL) West division, and the Dodgers are members of the National League (NL) West division. The series takes its name from the massive freeway system in the greater Los Angeles metropolitan area, the home of both teams; one could travel from one team's stadium to the other simply by driving along Interstate 5. The term is akin to Subway Series which refers to meetings between New York City baseball teams. 
> 
> Source: [Wikipedia](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/American_League_West)

“And now batting,” the Angel Stadium announcer said, “number 4, Korra Winters.”

The Anaheim crowd immediately booed and Korra, third basewoman for the Los Angeles Dodgers, grumbled as she trudged over to the home plate in what would most likely be her last at bat of the night, and possibly the game. The first preseason exhibition game was off to a shitty start. She’d been to the plate four times with nothing to show for it.

Her first few at bats, she hit two ground outs. In one of those at bats, she had teammates on first and second, and forced an easy double play. When she went to the dugout to pick up her glove and hat, she had slammed her helmet into her cubby hard. Miraculously,  it hadn’t cracked. Her teammates watched quietly and steered clear; they sympathized, but her temper was notorious.

During her third time at bat, she swung under and popped a foul that the Angels catcher, number 22 Asami Sato, easily sprung up to catch. That time around, she simply tossed her bat dismissively, and pulled her batting gloves off; no point in breaking a perfectly working bat, though she certainly didn’t lack the desire.

To add insult to injury, she got hit on her fourth at bat, and, while she finally got on base—which didn’t exactly give her any solace—the next batter popped out to right field, and there were already two outs. Total waste.

The Angels had this game in the bag. The score was two to nine in their favor.

At least she didn’t commit any errors on the field, Korra consoled herself. Then again, even if the Angels were on fire, they didn’t hit many balls her way, anyway. Nevertheless, Korra was in enough of a self-deprecating mood that she figured, with the the rut she’s been in, she wouldn’t have been surprised if she had flopped on a ball.

It was the top of the ninth, and Korra was ready to go home, drink a beer—or maybe two… or three—and cuddle with Naga. The good thing about the exhibition game against the Angels was that there was no traveling involved.

Finally at the plate, she adjusted into her batting stance and prepared to wait for a pitch.

Tahno, the Angels’ best closer, threw a slider that Korra was certain was within her range so she went for it. She usually didn’t like swinging on the first pitch, but she figured, what the hell, the ball looked good, and while she didn’t think there was any chance for a rally, she would enjoy making them work a little extra hard for their win if she got a hit.

“Strike!”

Well, so much for that. She wasn’t even close. Hindsight could be so annoying sometimes.

“C’mon, Avatar, you got this!” one of her teammates shouted from the dugout.

Korra took a deep breath, stepped back, rolled her shoulders and swung the bat a few times. She needed to relax.

She returned to the plate and prepared for the next pitch. A few seconds went by, and then Tahno nodded from the mound. Right when he was about to lift his leg and throw another pitch, the catcher said, “Time!”

The umpire granted the timeout, and Tahno awkwardly stopped before he released. Korra relaxed her grip on the bat, and barely resisted rolling her eyes when Sato jogged up to the pitcher’s mound.

She watched the pair as they talked. It was just her luck that Tahno would close this game. He was an ex teammate of hers from back in the minors, and she was certain that he still remembered all her quirks at the plate.

He covered his lips with his glove as he spoke to Sato, all while keeping his eyes on Korra. Korra didn’t need a look behind his glove to know he sported that creepy, slimy smirk of his.

_Tahno and Sato are trying to fuck with my head with that timeout_ , she decided. For all she knew, they were talking about the weather, or what they would be doing after the game; they were probably discussing everything but strategy. It was a classic Tahno move he pulled when they were teammates, and while it amused her back then, being on the receiving end of it was infuriating.

Korra looked down and began digging a hole in the dirt with one of her cleats. She would not look on and give them that satisfaction. Her poker face was terrible anyway.

It wasn’t just the mind games that were getting to Korra, however. When Sato jogged up to the mound, Korra couldn’t help… appreciating the view, and the smell. She made brief eye contact with Sato, who took off her mask as she stood to go to the mound. Korra noticed the pretty green eyes immediately; she even smelled the spicy cinnamon gum Sato chewed. What’s worse, she was caught staring; Sato smirked at her as she walked by. Korra dropped her gaze, annoyed with herself. She never mastered discretion in these situations. _At least she doesn’t have eyes in the back of her head_ , Korra thought. As Sato made her way over to the pitcher’s mound, Korra tried not to be too blatant in her staring; the way Sato’s ass looked in those baseball pants was downright criminal. Korra shook her head. She needed to focus.

Sato finally returned to the plate and squatted.

Korra took a yet another deep breath and stepped back to the plate. “About time…” she grumbled and heard Sato snort quietly.

“Whatever you say, _Avatar_.”

There was mockery in the way Sato said her nickname, and Korra narrowed her eyes at that, but kept them on Tahno and remained quiet. She was there to do a job. She’d get a hit, or so help her!

Tahno lifted his leg and released the second pitch. Another slider. It was nearly the same pitch, and Korra was certain she could connect this time. And she did, but it was a foul that veered towards the first base stands. Dammit. The count was oh-two.

The next pitch was a ball, one that made her lean away from the plate; it had barreled by her too close for comfort, and getting hit twice in an exhibition game was not worth it.

She shook her head at Tahno, who smirked as he watched for Sato’s next pitch instruction. He acknowledged the signal and pitched again.

It was a changeup, with a trajectory to her sweet spot—she practiced enough with Tahno back in the minors to know exactly where that ball was going to sail through—so she went for it.

“Strike out!” called the umpire.

Korra blinked slow as she replayed what happened in her mind. She was so off in her swing, it was embarrassing.

The Anaheim crowd roared in delight, and Tahno ate it right up. He removed his hat just to flip his hair. Korra hated that haircut.

“Better luck next time, _Uhh-vatar_!”

Korra scoffed; she’d forgotten how insufferable he could be. She began walking away but stopped when she heard Sato laugh.

“Hey, _Avatar_ , how about you bring a guitar next time?”

Korra narrowed her eyes at Sato, who took her catcher’s mask off, and winked one of her pretty green eyes as she walked by.

“Seems to me like you’ll need something with a bigger surface area if you wanna hit something.”

Korra tightened her grip on her bat, having had enough of this Angels shit. She was well on her way to follow Sato to the mound to give her and Tahno a piece of her mind, but the umpire stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. She looked at him as he jerked his head towards the Dodgers dugout.

“Let it go,” he ordered. “Game’s over.”

For one last time, Korra released a deep breath and relaxed her grip on the bat. She turned and walked to her dugout.

At least it was over.

Korra hoped she had enough beer at home, because two or three wouldn’t be enough after this game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is my "serious" fic I mentioned in [Kiss Me First](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13672311). 
> 
> It will be updated on a weekly basis.
> 
> In this story, women are allowed to play baseball. It will be explained in a later chapter.
> 
> Please don't hesitate to hit me up in the comments if you have any questions about baseball. I know most folks think it's a boring sport, but I freaking love it.


	2. Freeway Series, Game 1

“We meet again, Avatar.”

Korra couldn’t see Sato’s smile behind her catcher mask and her crouching position, but she could definitely hear it in her velvety voice. That, and she could also see the mischievous spark in her eyes.

Korra chuckled as she reached the home plate and began settling into her batting stance. She swung the bat a few times, loosening her arms. “Don’t start with me again, Sato.”

Sato chuckled. “I see you’re still using a bat.”

“Very funny,” Korra murmured with a slight shake of her head, her eyes still focused on the pitcher.

Despite that terrible performance during that exhibition game, Korra’s playing was amazing once the season started. Now, halfway through the season, she wasn’t going to let Sato’s shenanigans get to her again. For a moment, when she saw their schedule and realized they’d play a Freeway Series, Korra felt a tiny bit of anxiety—she did not want a repeat of what happened last time. It was a fleeting thought, fortunately. Before it could fester, she decided she was just going to play ball and have fun.

It was the bottom of the second inning, and Korra was the first at bat. Unlike the exhibition game, Korra did not go for the first pitch, which was just as well; it was a ball. 

“I also see you’ve been practicing patience,” Sato needled. 

“Meditation does wonders, as a matter of fact,” Korra replied. 

“Congrats.” 

Sato threw the ball back to the pitcher. There was a bit of sass in her tone, but Korra was in too good a mood to let it annoy her. Though she would never openly admit it, she’d be lying to herself if she claimed that she didn’t find Sato’s playfulness fun, at least today; the score was already oh-three in favor of the Dodgers. Plus, part of Korra allowed it because, put simply, Sato was hot as hell. Korra berated her shallowness—briefly remembering how she checked her out during that preseason game—but she couldn’t help herself. 

When the next pitch came, Korra went for it and it connected. It was a line drive to the far end of left field, so she easily made it to second base. The cheering roar throughout Dodger Stadium was music to her ears. She faced home plate, grinning and hoping Sato would make eye contact with her. It was totally her imagination, since she was busy getting a double and couldn’t look, but she was certain Sato stood there, admiring her greatness. Maybe next time she would hit a home run and shut Sato up for good. Korra removed her gloves and protective batting gear when their eyes met, and her grin widened. Korra couldn’t resist; she winked and exuberantly played an air guitar. 

Sato laughed, shaking her head before she placed her mask back on. She remembered.

The next at bat was the Dodgers’ second baseman, Aang, fondly also known by Dodger fans as Twinkle Toes. He was known for his speed, and therefore a knack for stealing bases. He was also quite stealthy, so most catchers and pitchers dreaded letting him get on base.

He assumed the batting stance of someone intent on bunting, so Korra stepped away from the bag, getting ready to sprint her heart out. She kept her eyes on the pitcher, and he kept his eyes on her. She could see his annoyance at the situation, and Korra smirked. She loved today’s game. 

He threw the ball to the second baseman to check her and Korra dived back to the bag. 

“Safe!”

Korra chuckled while she stood and brushed the dirt off her uniform. 

The pitcher released a sharp exhale and resigned himself to throw a pitch once he got the ball back. Korra stepped away from the bag again. As soon as the pitch was released, Korra took off and sprinted like her life depended on it. Through it all, Aang managed to hit a beautiful bunt. It headed to the right and at the perfect speed. Just fast enough that neither the first baseman, or Sato—the pitcher ran to first to cover the base—could get to it in time. By the time the first baseman got to the ball and thrown it to third, Korra slid in comfortably. The third baseman snapped the ball right back to first, but by then, Aang was already on the bag, and Korra cackled as she dusted herself off.

The next at bat popped out to left field, which was perfect for Korra, because the left fielder had been fielding wide and was all the way to the back. The ball bounced on the grass and Korra took off as soon as the Dodgers’ third base coach urged her to gun it and to not turn back. 

Korra knew she was fast, but she wasn’t exactly “Twinkle Toes” fast, but, oh well. She was perhaps a yard away when Sato caught the ball low. Korra dreaded what she was about to do, but by then it was too late, and she knew her marching orders.

Sato braced herself as Korra slid into home plate. Korra’s leading foot connected with Sato’s gloved hand, and then the rest of her body collided with Sato, forcing the catcher’s mask and hat to fly off. It was a tangle of limbs and grunts. Korra hoped that the contact would be both disorienting enough for Sato to drop the ball, and not painful enough to cause injury. Sato looked like she could take a hit, Korra tried to convince herself. Finally, Korra managed to tap the home plate.

“Safe!” the umpire called.  

Sato had dropped the ball in the midst of the scuffle. Korra whooped and pumped her fist victoriously. She stood and was well on her way to snark at Sato, but stopped herself just in time.

“Shit…!” Sato, who remained kneeling on the dirt, cursed, wincing as she removed her glove, and dropped it unceremoniously. Sato folded over and held her wrist protectively. Her hand hung loosely, and she groaned, a deep frown etched on her face. 

For a moment, everyone near home plate stood by, stupefied. When Korra saw the Angels pitcher run to his teammate, the umpire waved her arms and paused the whole game. She then looked at Korra and pointed her toward the Dodgers dugout. 

Korra nodded and hesitantly walked away. Once she made it to the dugout, the celebration for her run was muted. They patted her on the shoulder or helmet, but everyone’s eyes were on Sato, who was now surrounded by her manager, the rest of the infield players, and the umpire. Even a medic walked out to assess the situation. Sato, the Angels manager, the medic, and the umpire did most of the talking for several minutes while everyone looked on. When the medic touched and tried to bend Sato’s injured wrist, Sato tried to hide the pain, but Korra knew better. Then, everyone moved back, the pitcher returned to the mound, Sato donned her hat and mask, and squatted to catch a test pitch. 

It wasn’t good. Sato’s knees dropped to the dirt, and she curled in, pulling the glove off and holding her wrist again. The manager made a signal for the backup catcher. Sato would not be able to continue playing. 

Korra’s shoulders sagged and she dropped her head back. She should’ve just taken the out. This series was important for both teams, and the fans. Sato had to be devastated. Who knew how bad that injury was, let alone how long she’d be out of commission. 

The rest of the game was a blur for Korra. The Dodgers won, but she didn’t feel like celebrating after what she’d done. When the game was over, Korra showered quickly, got dressed, and headed towards the lockers for the visiting team. She stood in front of the women’s locker entrance, and considered just walking in and finding Sato, but decided against it. She was certain she was persona non grata in there. 

A couple of the female players walked out, and when they noticed Korra standing there awkwardly, they gazed at her with poorly masked disdain. Korra looked past it—she felt she deserved it, after all—and asked if Sato was still in there. 

“Why?” one of them asked suspiciously. 

“Please,” Korra reasoned. “I want to apologize to her.”

“She’s still in there,” the other replied, apparently deciding that Korra was being sincere. “You can go in, if you want.”

Korra shook her head. “I’d rather wait. Thanks.”

“Whatever,” the first player said and the two Angels walked away.

Korra pouted. She figured she probably deserved that, too. 

Not a moment later, the door opened, and out walked Sato with a duffel bag hanging on her shoulder. Korra was immediately hit with the smell of cinnamon and leather, but she shook herself; she wasn’t there to appreciate Sato’s alluring scent. 

The catcher paused when she saw Korra, and Korra straightened sheepishly.

“Sato.” 

“Avatar. What are you doing here?” she asked, frowning. 

“I wanted to talk to you,” Korra said, “to apologize for what happened out there.”

“Well, you got to score, and you guys won, so does it matter?”

“Yes,” Korra replied. “I didn’t mean to injure you.”

Sato lifted her wrapped wrist, glanced at it briefly, and shrugged noncommittally when her gaze returned to Korra’s. “Shit happens, I guess.” 

Korra could see Sato’s jaw clenching repeatedly, but something told her it wasn’t just because of the cinnamon gum.

“I’m sorry,” Korra said, her gaze unwavering on Sato’s. 

Sato halted her chewing, and her jaw remained clenched. She eyed Korra for several moments, and Korra had to suppress the urge to squirm. Who knew a face so pretty could be so intimidating. 

At last, Sato sighed, and shrugged. “Apology accepted.”

Korra released a deep sigh of relief, and smiled shyly. 

“Is that it?” Sato, to Korra’s misfortune, was not smiling. 

Korra quickly wiped her smile away, and racked her brain. When she decided she’d speak to Sato, she’d hoped it would go exactly like this. Sato would accept her apology and they would go their separate ways. But experiencing it made her feel like this couldn’t have been it; that it wasn’t enough, that there was more she needed to do. Even though Sato accepted the apology, she was still unhappy—scratch that, she was  _ pissed _ —and Korra couldn’t live with herself if Sato walked away like that.

Sato huffed at Korra’s silence and began walking away, leaving a lingering scent of leather and cinnamon in her wake. 

“Wait!” Korra begged, following Sato.

“What, Avatar?” Sato asked impatiently; she did not stop walking. “I accepted your apology. Your conscience can be at peace now.”

“That wasn’t the only reason I apologized,” Korra explained, her steps quickening. Sato sure had a long stride.

“Congratulations,” Sato replied. “More power to you.”

“You have a thing with congratulating me, don’t you?” Korra narrowed her eyes and pouted.

Sato huffed yet again. Korra couldn’t see because she was still trying to keep up with Sato, but she would bet her life’s savings that Sato rolled her eyes. 

“You seem like the type who takes herself way too seriously and likes to receive a star for every single little accomplishment.”

“Well, you’re wrong. You know nothing about me, Sato.”

“What a  _ tragedy _ ,” Sato remarked, quickening her pace.

Korra was almost jogging. “Hey! Dammit, wait!” She rounded in front of Sato, making the catcher stop abruptly. This time the eye roll was in plain view.

“Jeez, what do you want from me, Avatar?”

“Korra,” she corrected. “My name is Korra.”

“Congra—”

“Don’t say it!” Korra demanded. “Don’t say that  _ damn _ word again!”

Sato exhaled deeply and shifted from one foot to the other. “Fine. I won’t. Now, will you please move so I can go?”

“No,” Korra replied, but immediately continued when Sato narrowed her eyes. “Let me make it up to you.”

“The apology was enough, thank you.”

“I insist. Let me buy you dinner.”

“No.”

“C’mon, Sato… everyone gets hungry after a game.”

Several moments of silence, where neither of them seemed to be willing to budge, ticked on. At long last, Sato sighed. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

Korra’s smile was as bright as the sun. “Nope!”

Sato rolled her eyes. “Fine. Lead the way.”

“Yes!” Korra hissed and pumped her fist in victory, and Sato shook her head. “You’re gonna love it, Sato, I promise.”

“Asami,” Sato said, with a hint of a smile. “Call me Asami.”

Korra grinned, a slight pink to her cheeks. “Asami. A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

“Alright, Casanova.” Asami chuckled; she couldn’t suppress a blush of her own. “Let’s go.”


	3. Jack in the Box

“So… where are you taking me?”

“Heh!” Korra smirked. “Jack in the Box.”

“Are you serious?”

Korra laughed at Asami’s incredulity. “Like a heart attack.” 

“A heart attack is what we’ll get if we eat there,” Asami remarked.

Korra laughed again. “I  _ knew _ you were high maintenance.”

“I am  _ not _ high maintenance,” she said, mildly offended. “And it’s not about being a snob, either,” she added, giving Korra a warning look when she sensed Korra was about to accuse her of it.

“So what is it, then? Why are you ragging on Jack in the Box?”

Asami chuckled. “Really, Korra? You sprain my wrist, and you expect to make it up to me by taking me to eat junk food?”

“Their tacos are  _ not _ junk food, excuse you,” Korra defended. Then, she glanced at Asami’s bandaged arm before returning her eyes to the road. “How bad is it?”

Asami held up her injured wrist. It was wrapped snugly with an elastic bandage. “Hurts like a bitch, but I took some pain meds. Tomorrow I’ll see the team orthopedist, and get a more thorough assessment, but I’ve definitely been taken off the roster for the rest of the Freeway Series, and a few more games, at least.” 

Korra pouted. “I feel like an asshole about this whole thing.”

“Don’t,” Asami said. “I think if I were in your position, I probably would’ve done the same thing.”

“You wouldn’t,” Korra said, then gave Asami a playful smirk. “Catchers are slow.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know I’m the fastest catcher in the league.”

Korra chuckled softly. “You are, actually. I’ll give you that.”

“Good,” Asami said, pleased with herself.

“Still,” Korra insisted, and Asami could hear the regret in her tone.

“It was my own fault for leaving my glove that low,” Asami explained, trying to appease Korra. “I thought I could take you, but you hit like a freight train.”

“It’s all the tacos,” Korra quipped, trying to lighten the mood.

Asami smirked. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

There was a moment of silence and both looked at the road ahead. The feeling of comfort accompanying this silence was surprising to Asami, given how annoyed she’d been with Korra outside the women’s locker room. Asami was a natural with people, even when she was having a bad day. When she wasn’t having a bad day, she was even better at making just about anyone feel at ease around her. Random people making  _ her _ comfortable, on the other hand, was a different story. Asami had a hard time trusting people, but she didn’t feel the need for caution around Korra. 

Asami turned to Korra again. Korra drove a Jeep Wrangler with big, ridiculous tires. The top was down, and the Southern California air was warm. Korra kept to the speed limit, and remained focused on her task, checking her mirrors often. She even kept both hands on the wheel. It reminded Asami of the day she took her driving test as a teenager.

“You know, considering how impatient and reckless you are on the field, I’m surprised you’re such a cautious driver.”

Korra glanced at Asami and then turned her eyes back to the road, snorting slightly. “I’m trying not to scare you. Normally I’m a terrible driver. If I could walk or bike everywhere, I would, but LA sucks for that.”

“It sure does,” Asami agreed. 

“Although LA sucks for driving, too!” Korra laughed.

Asami joined her. “That’s why I drive fast. The faster I get to where I’m going, the less time I have to spend on the road with all the crazies.” 

Korra frowned in confusion, but she kept her smile. “What? That makes absolutely no sense!”

Asami snickered. “It does when you’re in a car with me.” 

Korra shook her head softly. “You know your fast driving makes you one of the crazies, too, right?”

“It absolutely does not.”

“Sure, Sato. Whatever you say.” 

“Asami,” she corrected. “Sato is my father. I can never get used to being called that.”

“Tell me about him,” Korra encouraged.

Asami shrugged. “There isn’t much to tell about him. He still lives in Japan, loves baseball, but my love for the game wasn’t exactly what he wanted me to inherit from him.”

“Why not? Is he one of those old school folks who still think women shouldn’t play?”

Asami shook her head. “No. He’s not. He was actually happy when the powers that be finally allowed women to play alongside men. He says that ever since then, baseball is truly about skill, and the love for the game. It’s made it more exciting, and has given everyone the opportunity, regardless of sex, to play and prove themselves.” 

“So how come he isn’t thrilled that you decided to play professionally?”

Asami smiled sadly. “Well, what he actually wanted me to inherit from him was the family business.”

“Well, you could still do that,” Korra said, tipping her head to the side in thought. “Baseball is not like a regular job that you get to do until retirement age.”

“It is if you decide to coach after you stop playing, or become a commentator, or anything like that.”

Korra nodded. “Is that what you want to do afterwards?”

Asami shrugged. “Don’t know. It’s too early to tell. Right now I’m just having fun.”

“So what’s the family business?”

“My father owns a small engineering company in Japan. They do contracts for the government, things like that.”

“Sounds complicated.”

“It’s alright. Money’s good, and there’s always work. I enjoyed it a lot while in school. I did some internships for his company back then.”

Korra’s eyes widened. “Wait, so you’re an engineer, too?”

“I am.”

Korra nodded. “That is very impressive.” 

“Thank you.”

The Jack in the Box sign came into view, and when they were nearing the establishment, Korra turned on her turning signal, and entered the parking lot. She parked in an empty spot nearest to the entrance and shut off the engine. 

“Here we are!” she said, excited. “This is gonna be great, Asami! I promise you.” 

Asami laughed as they exited the Jeep. “You sure like making promises, Korra.”

Korra grinned as she opened and held the door for Asami. “I like keeping them, too. After you.”

Asami smiled. “Thank you.”

“He-hey, Korra’s in da house! Awesome game today, dude!”

Asami side-glanced Korra, unimpressed, and with a raised brow. 

“Eh-heh… thanks, Charlie.” Korra squirmed uncomfortably.

Asami had to resist her smile. It was so easy to rile Korra up.

“So you want your usual today?” Charlie asked.

“Uh,” Korra turned to Asami, “you don’t mind if I order for the both of us, do you?”

Asami shook her head. “You’re the one that’s been raving about these amazing tacos.” 

“They are,” she assured, then turned to Charlie, and handed him her credit card. “Make that two of my usual.”

“Coming right up!” Charlie quickly charged Korra’s card, placed two medium sized cups in front of them. Korra took them, and handed one to Asami.

After they got their drinks from the soda fountain, Korra motioned towards a nearby booth.

“Let me guess,” Asami began with a smile as they slid on the benches across from each other, “Charlie knows you by name because you’re a regular, and not because you’re a famous ball player.”

Korra rubbed the back of her neck. “Guilty as charged. The Dodgers are my first major league team, so I would come here as a rookie, before I was, as you say, famous.”

“The Angels are my first team, too. I hope it’s my last, since I love living here, but I guess you never know with these things.”

Korra nodded. “I know. You got drafted from Japan, and you’re playing pretty well this season, so I doubt they’re considering trading you anytime soon.”

Asami gasped in feigned shock. “Have you been stalking me, Avatar? Keeping track of my stats?”

Korra gave Asami a defiant pout. “I have, as a matter of fact. Ever since you picked on me during that stupid exhibition game, and told me to use a guitar instead of a bat.”

Asami threw her head back and laughed. “Oh, my God, you are adorable. That really got to you, didn’t it?”

At that moment, Asami’s eyes widened when Charlie appeared before them and placed two trays with large stacks of tacos in front of them. He disappeared just as quickly. 

“I am  _ not _ adorable,” Korra scoffed. “I am a rugged, fierce ball player. And, yes, it did get to me. I was having a crap game, and you just had to needle it in!”

“Yes, okay, I totally did, but all that aside… are we seriously eating all this food?”

“This amazing feast,” Korra began, quite dramatically, “is my regular meal after a home game. We are two young athletes with voracious appetites. Eat up, and bask in the explosion of flavor in your taste buds!”

Asami rolled her eyes playfully. “Alright, alright.”

Korra watched with bated breath as Asami took a taco from her stack and, quite suspensefully—but mostly to mess with Korra—took her first bite. She couldn’t suppress her reaction even if she tried. She closed her eyes and moaned softly. 

“Ha!” Korra exclaimed triumphantly. “I told you!”

“Mm-hmmm…” Asami mumbled, smiling. 

“Pretty amazing, right?”

Asami nodded and swallowed. “These are pretty good. No wonder you buy a whole stack.”

Korra laughed and took her first bite. Asami was impressed that this bite made more than half the taco disappear. They ate in comfortable silence. Asami didn’t realize how hungry she’d been, and was surprised that, after several minutes, she actually managed to eat all the tacos placed in front of her. 

She groaned and leaned back lazily. “Ugh… I don’t think I can move.”

Korra laughed. “What? No way! What about desert?”

Asami shook her head. “Goodness, no! If I knew you were bringing me here, I would’ve worn my fat pants. I think you’re going to have to carry me.”

Korra grinned and flexed. “I can do that.” 

Asami laughed softly. “Impressive, but that was just a figure of speech.”  

“Your loss.”

Asami sighed dramatically, feigning disappointment. “Perhaps.”

Korra began gathering the taco wrappers and stacked the food trays. “So… what do you want to do next?”

“Go into an induced coma.”

Korra laughed. “I can try to tackle you harder if you want?”

Asami smirked and shook her head. “Very funny.” Then she sighed. “Honestly, if I wasn’t so tired, I’d love to hang out with you more, but after the day I’ve had, I just want to go home and sleep.”

Korra nodded. “I understand. Do you want me to drive you to your home, or…?”

“Back to Dodger Stadium,” Asami replied. “That’s where I left my car.”

“You’re okay to drive with your injury?”

“Yeah,” Asami said. “As long as I take it easy, the team doc said it’s not a problem.”

“Got it.” 

Once they were back on the road, Asami turned to face Korra from the passenger seat. “So be honest with me.”

Korra made brief eye contact with Asami. “Um… okay?”

“Do you research every catcher that gets under your skin when you’re at bat?”

“Um…” Korra scratched the back of her neck and took a deep breath. Asami waited in patient silence, and when Korra finally responded, she did so in a mumble.

“What was that?” Asami asked, straining to hear over the wind, and the racket the Jeep’s tires made against the road.

Korra glanced at Asami, but immediately looked away. Asami could tell she was still nervous. Then she finally spoke: “I said… only the beautiful ones.”

“O-oh…” Asami fell quiet, suddenly thankful for the darkness. She was certain she blushing.

“It’s okay if you’re not… you  _ know _ ,” Korra said, despite her nervousness. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, that’s not my intention, but you asked, so…”

Asami smiled, keeping her eyes on the road. “It’s not that.”

“It’s not?”

Asami’s smile widened and shook her head. “No. You’ve been flirting with me since I told you to call me by my first name. If I wasn’t into it, I… I would’ve told you to stop it back then, and I don’t think I would’ve accepted your invitation, either.”

Asami saw the way Korra’s eyes widened and she turned to face her. “Wait, so—”  

Asami pointed in front of them. “Keep your eyes on the road, Korra.”

Korra flinched and returned her attention to driving. “Sorry.”

Asami smiled. “It’s okay.”

“So… that means you…?”

“Find you attractive?” Asami finished for her. “Goodness, yes. Have you seen yourself?”

Asami watched the way Korra bit her lips, trying to contain her grin. It wasn’t really working, but Asami found the reaction painfully adorable.

“Um…” Korra began. “I don’t know what to say…”

Asami laughed. “‘Thank you’ works just fine.”

“No, I mean…” Korra paused and chuckled. “You  _ know _ what I mean.”

“Actually, I don’t.” 

“Let’s be real, Asami. You are an amazing ball player, and I just found out you’re, like, crazy smart and fun to hang out with. On top of all that, you’re  _ gorgeous _ . You could have anybody. I’m just… me.”

“Just you is fine by me.”

They arrived at Dodger Stadium, and Korra headed towards the private lot for players and staff. Asami guided Korra to her car, and once Korra parked next to it, she snorted. 

“No wonder you drive fast. What is that?”

Asami grinned. “A Lexus LC500. Maybe next time I can drive.”

Korra laughed. “Alright. Just be sensible. Fast drivers make me nervous.”

“No promises.” 

Asami unbuckled her seat belt, jumped off the Jeep, and reached for her duffel bag on the back seat. She turned to look at Korra with a smile. “Thank you for the tacos, Korra. I had a great time. Maybe we can do this again.”

“You’re welcome, Asami. And, yes, definitely!” Korra said, returning the smile. Then she frowned. “Again, I’m sorry about your wrist.”

Asami shook her head. “You already apologized, Korra. This kind of stuff happens sometimes. I’ll get better and I’ll be back on the diamond in no time.”

“I really hope so, ‘cause this Freeway Series is not going to be a challenge at all without you in the field harassing me.” 

Asami laughed. “I’m sure Tahno will still be there to close a couple of the games. Besides, I’ve learned tonight that I don’t have to be on the field to get under your skin.” 

“I…” 

With that, Asami winked, and turned to get into her car. “Good night, Korra.”

“Uh… g’night.”


	4. Freeway Series, Game 2

“Is she really coming over here?”

“Huh?” Asami glanced at Tahno then followed the direction he was looking at. Her eyes widened.

“The Uhh-vatar.” Tahno jerked his head at Korra, who was sheepishly making her way from the Dodgers dugout to the Angels dugout. “You want me to get rid of ‘er? I know her, so this doesn’t have to get awkward.”

It was day two of the Freeway Series, and the game was a few minutes away from starting. Tahno and Asami sat in their dugout, munching on sunflower seeds companionably. Asami wasn’t playing at all, and Tahno, if he got to play, wouldn’t do so until towards the end of the game, so both had their hats off, and wore their on-field light jackets. 

Asami shook her head. “No, that’s not necessary. Let me handle it.”

She stood and smiled at Korra, but before she could leave her dugout and meet Korra on the grass, a few Angels stood in front of Asami, effectively separating them. They had not heard the exchange between Asami and Tahno, nor were they—or anybody else, for that matter—aware of the impromptu dinner-that-turned-into-a-date that she and Korra had the night before. Thus, they were still upset that Korra rendered their starting catcher useless.

“What do you want, Avatar?” one of them asked, her tone short.

“Guys, I don’t want any trouble. I just came to talk to Sato,” Asami heard Korra say placatingly. Asami was tall, but somehow, the teammates that stood in her defense were taller, so she couldn’t see Korra in front of them.

“Yeah, well, she don’t wanna talk to you, so get back to your dugout. We heard about you stalking the women’s locker after the game last night,” the other said. 

“Guys!” Asami said, forcing her way through them and with a kind but firm hand pushing them back. “That’s enough.” She nodded towards the Angels dugout. “I got this.” 

They looked at her with a frown, then looked at Korra warily. 

“Go on, it’s fine,” Asami insisted, and when they heeded her demand, she turned to face Korra. 

Korra rubbed the back of her neck stiffly, giving her a shy smile when her eyes met Asami’s.

Asami returned the smile. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Korra said, keeping her gaze on Asami’s eyes and intentionally ignoring the glares from the rest of the Angels in their dugout. “They sure are protective of you.”

“Don’t mind them. They’re like the siblings I never had,” Asami explained. 

Korra nodded at her arm. “What’d the doc say?”

Asami lifted her injured wrist. “No major or permanent damage, fortunately. Definitely off the roster for the remainder of this series, and three more weeks after that, with lots of therapy in between, once the swelling goes down.”

Korra released a big, deep sigh. “Thank goodness. I’m relieved.”

“Me, too.” Asami smiled.

Korra blushed and rubbed the back of her neck again. “So, listen… I was thinking that maybe after the game, you and I could go out for tacos again… if you want… but it’s totally okay if you don’t, ‘cuz—”

Asami laughed and placed her good hand on Korra’s shoulder. “Korra, yes, that would be wonderful.”

“Really?”

Asami removed her hand from Korra’s shoulder to brush an errant black lock of hair behind her ear. She was certain she was blushing, too. “Yes. On one condition.”

“Name it.”

“I drive, and I get to pick the taco joint, especially if we win.”

Korra chuckled. “Okay. Just try not to kill me on the freeway.”

Asami grinned. “No promises.”

“Oh! Before I forget,” Korra reached into one her pockets and pulled out a small piece of paper. “Here’s my number. I forgot to give it to you last night.”

Asami took the offered paper and smirked. “Heh. And I didn’t even have to ask.” 

“Shut up, you!” Korra laughed and turned to go back to her dugout. “Call me,” she said over her shoulder.

Asami waved, looked at the number in her hand, and placed it in her jacket pocket, patting it as if for safe keeping. Korra sort of reminded her of a puppy. A sexy adult puppy. Snorting and shaking her head at the thought, Asami turned to go back to her dugout, but as soon as she noticed Tahno’s pervy grin, her smile dropped and she rolled her eyes.

“Don’t even start,” she said, but she knew her warning would fall on deaf ears. With the heat her cheeks radiated, she was certain her face looked like a beacon.

Tahno chuckled and flipped his hair. “Tacos? Really, Sato? You’re not even trying to be subtle.”

“Shut up, Tahno. I’m bi.”

“So?” He shrugged. Then his grin widened. “Whatever you two’ll be doing tonight will definitely be lesbian in nature.”

Asami shook her head and rolled her eyes again, unable to help a grin of her own.

“You know… if you wanted to learn how to really treat a woman like Korra, I could give you some private lessons.”

Asami punched his arm with her good hand. Hard.

“Ow!” Tahno whined. “You’re lucky that’s not my pitching arm.”

“Can it.”


	5. Make It With You

“So where are you taking me?”

Asami smirked, amused with the déjà vu from that question. “Only the best taco truck in all of Anaheim.”

“I see.”

“Hey, we did win tonight’s game.”

“Only ‘cause you guys had home field advantage.”

Asami giggled. “You are such a sore loser, Korra.”

“That I am,” Korra replied without hesitation.

“Among other things, which I’m sure you’re going to tell me because last night we mostly talked about me.”

“Ha! That was a very nice segue, Asami Sato. I am impressed.”

Asami grinned. “I do try.”

“Well, tell me what you know, and I’ll go from there.”

“Hmm… well, besides the obvious, I know you’re Canadian… from Toronto. You played in the minors for a bit before the Dodgers discovered you and picked you up.”

“Asami Sato,” Korra gasped. “Have you been stalking me?”

Asami hummed with a smile. “Pot kettle much, Korra? _You_ did it first, so it’s only fair.” She remembered scrolling through her smartphone that morning—looking at Korra’s stats and her Wikipedia page—while she waited to see the orthopedist. Asami tried to convince herself that it was to keep herself occupied, but she knew better.

Korra snickered. “I’m just kidding. I’m kinda flattered, actually.”

“Uh-huh, so go on, now… tell me about yourself, Avatar Korra. Start with that nickname of yours.”

“Heh, I come from a family that eats and breathes baseball. We are huge Blue Jays fans. You see, most families would save up for vacation trips. My family would save up for season passes. Come rain or shine, we never missed a home game. And every season, my mom and I would sew up a Blue Jay costume, and I’d wear it to every single game.”

“Seriously?” Asami asked, incredulous.

Laughing, Korra nodded her head. “I’m not kidding! If you look up Blue Jays Avatar on YouTube, you’ll find old grainy videos of me in the stands in some dumb bird outfit, cheering for the Toronto Blue Jays, even as a teenager. In a way, I became the team’s unofficial avatar, so the name stuck. Just about everyone in town knew me. I’m a big deal back home, I hope you know.”

Asami chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good,” Korra sassed.

“So, were you disappointed that the Dodgers were the ones that drafted you instead of the Blue Jays?”

“Eeh… it was fifty-fifty, I guess. I was over the moon that I was finally going to play in the major leagues, but sad that it wasn’t with the Blue Jays.”

“And now?”

Korra grinned with a far away look as she fondly thought of the Dodgers. “Now, I can’t imagine playing for any other team. I know that’s not a good thing to do because of the nature of the industry, but I love this team, I love this city, and I’m happy here, even if I miss my parents.”

“I know exactly what you mean.” Asami nodded, and then guided the car towards a rundown stripmall. “We’re almost there,” she explained.

Korra hummed. “I feel like this car is too nice to be in this neighborhood.”

Asami chuckled. “It is, but just like you’re a regular at Jack in the Box, I’m also a regular at this whole in the wall.”

“Hey, that sorta rhymed!” Korra laughed.

Asami grinned. “It did, didn’t it? Ha! But don’t worry, this is Angels turf.”

“All the more reason for me to not get out of the car!”

Asami laughed. “Relax, drama queen, you’re with me. I’ll keep you safe.” She turned into an empty parking spot and shut off the engine.

A few yards away sat a taco truck, with several picnic tables surrounding it. Scratchy Spanish music drifted out into the parking lot from some cheap speakers that hung precariously on every corner of the truck. It was late, and Asami liked coming over at such time to avoid the dinner crowd.

“Hey, Chepe,” Asami greeted when they got to the truck window.

“Hey, Asami, how are you?” Chepe greeted with a deep Mexican accent. He was a big man, drenched in sweat, but with a big happy smile. His smile dimmed when he saw Korra. “Ey, Asami,” he began, eyes narrowed and never leaving Korra’s. “Why are you consorting with the enemy? Isn’t this the Dodger who hurt your hand?”

Asami saw Korra reach behind her neck. It was definitely a nervous tick.

“I told you I should’ve stayed in the car,” Korra mumbled.

Asami shook her head and bumped her shoulder with Korra’s. “Hush, you.” Then she turned to Chepe with a smug smile. “Yes, she is, but that’s why she’s here. She’s making it up to me and with the best tacos in all of Anaheim.”

“It’s the least she could do,” Chepe grumbled, unimpressed. “So what will it be?”

“The works, times two. And we’re taking it to go since I know you’re closing soon.”

“Coming right up!”

Asami turned to Korra, who grinned at her.

“You rhymed again.”

Asami laughed. “I guess I’m feeling poetic today.”

Korra looked at Chepe warily while he put their order together. “He’s a nice fella, isn’t he?”

“Chepe’s great,” Asami agreed. “Now, tell me something, what was it like for you having Tahno as a teammate?”

Korra huffed. “Ugh, he’s a great closer, but he was unbearable. Does he still have an ego the size of Texas?”

Asami snickered. “Bigger.”

“Yeah, I figured it’d only get bigger now that he’s in the major leagues. And let me guess, he’s always hitting on you, isn’t he?”

“Only constantly, but I don’t pay him any mind.”

“Heh, well… in his defense, I can’t really blame him for trying.”

Asami shrugged. “Yeah, well, too bad for him. One, he’s definitely not my type, and, two, I happen to be interested in somebody else.”

“Is that so?” Korra grinned, a soft blush dusting her cheeks.

“Yes.”

“Hey, Dodger,” Chepe called cooly. “Come pay for Asami’s food. Cash only!”

Asami snickered when she saw Korra pout as she pulled her wallet out and walk to the window.

“How much?” Korra mumbled through her pout.

“Twenty-five.”

Korra handed him two twenties, and took the bag of food. “Keep the change.”

“I was planning to,” Chepe said, haughtily, and Asami’s snickering turned into a laugh.

“Thank you, Chepe. Bye!”

“Bye, Asami. And ditch that Dodger, aight?”

Korra returned to Asami’s side, still pouting. “Even with a good tip, he’s rude.”

Asami chuckled. “He bleeds Angels red and can’t help himself.”

“Sure,” Korra voiced skeptically. “I wanna see him hating this much when we go to the World Series.”

“What makes you think your team will go to the World Series?”

“Oh, ye, of little faith. My team is having one of its best seasons, which can’t be said about the Angels, by the way, so we’re gonna make you eat those words.”

Asami chuckled and shook her head. “We still have a chance to make it to the playoffs. What if we do and win the American League Championship?”

Korra shrugged smugly. “Then Chepe will be hating even more, because we’ll still beat your ass on baseball’s biggest stage!”

“I’d like to see you try, Avatar!”

They got back into the car and were back on the road in no time.

“So where are we going now?” Korra asked.

“Home,” Asami replied. “I got drinks and a killer ocean view.”

“Sounds perfect.”

* * *

 

“So tell me a story from your childhood.”

“My childhood, huh…” Korra pursed her lips and thought about it, looking out at the stunning view. Part of her suspected it was more breathtaking because of the company she was keeping, and not just because the bright full moon made the waves sparkle delightfully.

They’d been talking for a couple hours now, getting to know each other, and Korra could not remember having such a good time outside a baseball field.

“Oh! I got one. So, my mom’s parents had a farm, right?”

“Uh-huh.” Asami nodded with a smile, her complete focus on Korra.

Korra found the way Asami maintained her gaze on her so steadily, so undivided, both thrilling and nerve-racking. “So, uh…” she began distractedly, but then shook her head; she needed to concentrate. “We would visit often. My grandparents had cattle, all of them cows, no bulls, and every once in a while, my grandpa would send a cow away for a few days to a nearby farm, and then it would come back pregnant. I was so confused! Like, how could this possibly happen?”

Asami chuckled. “How old were you?”

Korra shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know… maybe four or five.”

Asami shook her head, still wearing a big smile. “You sweet summer child.”

“Seriously! Anyway, so this happened during one of our visits. I overheard my mom and grandma talking about how Hokita, one the youngest cows my grandparents had, and who’d been away from the farm for a few days, had finally gotten pregnant for the first time and would be returning to our farm that day.

“I was on a mission, determined to solve this mystery! The next morning, I woke up early. I also woke up my dad, and told him he needed to come with me and grandpa to milk the cows, because I had questions! Milking the cows was one of the first things grandpa did, by the way, like, at the ass-crack of dawn. So my half-asleep dad and I go to the barn to find my grandpa. On our way over, we saw that Hokita was back, grazing in the pasture, and she was pregnant! She looked no different to me, of course, but somehow everyone knew! So when we get to my grandpa, I ask him: ‘Grandpa, how do cows get pregnant?’”

Asami appeared to be barely able to contain her giggling. “What did he say?”

Korra did not hold her laugh. “He was in the middle of milking one of the cows—he was old school so he did it by hand—and he stops mid-squeeze. My grandpa was a serious, scary, and scruffy old man, so you can imagine how ridiculous he looked, petrified and holding a couple of udders. He looks at my dad. I also turn to look at my dad, who’s suddenly _very_ awake. He’s covering his mouth with one of his hands, and his shoulders are shaking, trying to contain his laughter!”

Asami chuckled. “I can only imagine.”

“Yeah, so I turn back to my grandpa, who’s scowling and bright red. ‘You tell her!’ he tells my dad, and my dad’s all, ‘ _You_ tell her! She asked _you_.’”

Asami grinned wide and shook her head. “Men.”

“I know, right? I’m so annoyed at this point, ‘cause, what’s the big deal? So I turn back to my grandpa, because I asked him, _and_ because they were _his_ cows. My dad was born and raised in the city, so what did he know about cows getting pregnant and farming, right? Anyway, before I could ask again, my grandpa, who refused to look at me and was pretty much growling at my dad by this point, says to him, ‘Why haven’t you had _this_ conversation with her, yet? She’s a girl and needs to be prepared!’

“‘She barely started preschool this year!’ my dad says, and my grandpa’s just as annoyed as me, and I had had it with them by this point, so I stomp my tiny feet on the hay-covered dirt, my little hands balled into angry fists. ‘How do cows get pregnant!’ I demand. My grandpa scoffs, and he grumbles, ‘They get pregnant when they give a lot of milk.’”

Asami threw her head back and laughed. “Oh, my God! That is so terrible!”

“Oh, but it gets worse!”

“How could it possibly get worse?” Asami asked, leaning forward.

“After hearing this,” Korra continued excitedly, “I am determined, and I decide on a new mission! So I tell my grandpa, ‘I’m going to help you milk _all_ the cows! You’re not going to have to send them away to get milked anymore, grandpa. I’m gonna milk them myself! I’m gonna get them all pregnant, and you gotta deal with it!’”

At this point, Asami was wiping her tears of laughter. “Oh, my God, Korra! Really?”

“Yes! My dad was _dying_ , and my grandpa was like, ‘No, you will _not_ , young lady! Milking cows is dangerous!’ but I didn’t believe him for a second! I’d seen him milk the cows a bunch of times, and they just stand there and let him milk them! I tell him this, and then he’s says, ‘You will not be milking cows! Milking cows is for adults!’

“Later in the day, when I asked my dad why grandpa wouldn’t let me milk the cows to get them pregnant, he said that grandpa couldn’t have all the cows pregnant at the same time because then when they gave birth, there’d be too many of them, and not enough food to go around.”

Asami giggled. “So did you ever find out how cows get pregnant?”

Korra sighed melodramatically. “Yes… I blame the Discovery Channel for that.”

“Ah, yes, the Discovery Channel… ruining childhood memories one documentary at a time.”

“No kidding,” Korra huffed. “So, maybe I was seven or eight at this point, and my mom and I were watching a documentary about buffalos.”

“Oh, no…”

“The narrator gets to the mating part, and while a male is mounting a female, I am completely horrified. I turn to my mom, ‘But I thought cows would get pregnant after giving _lots_ of milk!’”

Asami snorted.

“My mom frowns, thoroughly bewildered, and asks, ‘What? Who told you that?’

“‘Grandpa said!’ I tell her adamantly. She laughs and shakes her head, ‘Oh, honey, no… a cow has to mate with a bull in order to get pregnant. Just like the buffalo on TV.’

“‘But the cows would disappear and then come back pregnant. I thought that wherever they went, they’d be milked extra hard, and _then_ it would happen!’

“Poor Mom. I remember her trying _so_ hard to keep a straight face through all the dumb shit I said. ‘No, sweetie,’ she says, ‘The cows went away to the nearby farm because there was a bull there.’

“I was so devastated my grandpa lied to me, so that same night, my mom cornered my dad as soon as he got home from work. She sat us all down, and we had the birds and the bees talk. And that’s when I finally learned how cows get pregnant. The end.”

Asami laughed. “That is a great story, Korra. It sounds like you had a wonderful childhood with farm animals and bird outfits.”

Korra smiled wistfully. “I did, actually. I’m very lucky. My parents are amazing.”

“They sound like they are,” Asami said, rubbing her arms.

Korra noticed immediately. They’d been sitting there for long while now, and the ocean breeze cooled considerably since then. She checked her smartphone and her eyes widened when she saw the time. It was nearly two in the morning.

“Shit, it’s so late!” Korra said, standing up. “I’m so sorry, I’ll get out of your hair. We have a game tomorrow—well, later today, ‘cause it’s already tomorrow…” she trailed.

Asami also stood, her disappointment evident. “We’ve been having fun, Korra… talking and getting to know each other. I’m not sleepy, and you _don’t_ have to go.”

“I do, actually,” Korra insisted, oblivious. “You’re still taking pain meds, so you need your rest.” She opened the sliding door and walked back inside, heading straight towards the front door. She sensed Asami followed, but once she paused at the door, she was surprised to find just how close when she turned to face Asami. Korra smiled and rubbed the back of her neck. “I had a wonderful time tonight, Asami. Thank you for having me.”

“I didn’t.”

“Huh?”

Asami huffed and smiled, shaking her head. “Nothing. You’re welcome, Korra.” She took another step towards Korra. “Any time.”

They were inches apart.

Korra peeked into Asami’s eyes. They were a deep, vibrant green, smoldering into Korra’s blues. Then Korra looked at those vivid red lips, and she had to turn away. If she kept staring, she wouldn’t be able to control herself. She stuffed her hands into her pockets. This tall, beautiful woman would be the death of her.

“Good night,” she whispered.

“Korra.”

The way Asami said her name alerted Korra that Asami’s patience was escaping like the air in a flat tire. “Y-Yeah?”

“If you’re not staying the night, at least kiss me.”

Korra gaped like a fish out of water. “I—” It happened as if in slow motion. Asami flipped her fabulous hair and kissed Korra stupid. Just like that, and Korra felt like she could levitate. In fact, Asami’s lips against hers probably felt better than finding out she’d been drafted by the Dodgers.

She moaned into Asami’s lips, pulling her hands out of her pockets to hold on to Asami’s hips. Her grip tightened, and she pulled Asami closer, pressing their bodies tight. Her hands moved up, holding her snug. Korra couldn’t recall ever being so eager to kiss someone, let alone so deeply. She whimpered, shivering when she felt Asami’s tongue brush against her bottom lip. Korra couldn’t help herself. She swiped her own tongue against Asami’s, grinning against her lips when Asami moaned in approval.

Their kiss finally tapered off to teasing nips, and Asami, somewhat breathless, would pull away every time Korra wanted to deepen the kiss again. Korra felt Asami’s fingers reach up and thread through her brown hair, holding her at bay gently. They both opened their eyes and grinned stupidly at each other.

With one last brush of lips and a giggle, Asami reached behind Korra and opened the door. They were reluctant to pull apart. Korra, however, went from reluctant to full dumbass when Asami brushed her black locks with a graceful hand and made them tumble lusciously over her shoulders. She leaned on the edge of the door, and began to gently push Korra out.

“Good night, Korra. Text me when you get home.”

She watched Asami grin beautifully one last time as she closed the door. Korra stood there, still like a moron, except now she regretted her insistence to leave. How was she supposed to leave after that kiss, let alone function?

More importantly, why was she in such a rush to leave when they’d arrived in Asami’s car?

“Idiot,” she murmured to herself with a smirk as she pulled her phone out and began walking toward the elevator.

Something told Korra that Asami kissed her like that precisely so she’d regret leaving, so that she’d know what she’d be missing out on, and, truth be told, she did. She loved the way Asami felt against her, the way her lips were soft and tasted like the cinnamon gum Asami loved, and the beers they drank all night. Korra reached up to feel her own lips and giggled. They were waxy from Asami’s rouge lipstick. She probably looked like a clown walking out of Asami’s condo, but she didn’t mind. It was _so_ worth it.

Entering the elevator and pressing the button for the lobby, Korra released a deep sigh. Who was this woman? Who was this woman that could render Korra stupid? Asami was everything Korra imagined and so much more. In fact, Korra loved the beach and was obsessed with the smell of new leather, and Asami just happened to smell like the leather in her fancy ass car and the ocean breeze—and cinnamon! Asami literally smelled like spice and everything nice, and Febreze needed to come up with an Asami scent stat so Korra could buy bottles of it.

Thinking about this just made Korra want to press the button to Asami’s floor again, but she knew she shouldn’t. Sure, Korra was turned on beyond repair, but she knew that if she went back and knocked on Asami’s door, she’d never live it down, and she wasn’t gonna give Asami that satisfaction. She already got shit from Asami for giving out her phone number without asking.

Thus, her ass was just gonna call a Lyft and go home. She walked outside as she entered her location and destination information in the app. The only available Lyft in the area would not arrive for the next twenty minutes. Korra frowned, and tried UBER. Same thing.

“Uuugh,” she groaned. For all she knew, it was the same driver, working for both companies!

Submitting the request for a Lyft, Korra took a deep breath and sat on the curb to wait. After a few minutes passed, Korra tensed when she heard steps behind her.

“Korra.”

Korra looked over her shoulder to see Asami walking toward her. She stood and wiped the dust from her bottom. “Asami! Uh, hi,” she said. “What are you doing down here?”

Asami smiled. “I could ask you the same thing. I was cleaning up on the balcony after you left when I happened to look down and noticed you down here looking like an abandoned puppy. You don’t have a ride, do you?”

“No,” Korra said. “I requested a Lyft, but the universe is conspiring against me. It’s going to be a while before it gets here.”

“Why didn’t you call me? I can give you a ride, you know?”

“I didn’t wanna bother you, Asami. You’re supposed to get rest, _and_ you shouldn’t be driving with your injury.”

Asami shrugged and jingled her keys in front of Korra. “It’s not that bad. C’mon, nerd. I’ll drop you off back at the stadium so you can pick up your car.”

Korra pouted. “I don’t mind waiting, Asami, it’s no problem, promise.”

Asami rolled her eyes. “There you go making promises again. Unlike you, I don’t have to play tomorrow. I just have to show up and look pretty. You, on the other hand, are playing, so you actually need the rest.” She jerked her head towards her car.

Korra bit her lip, considering Asami’s offer. She supposed Asami had a point. “Okay… thanks.”

As they walked to Asami’s car, Korra canceled the request for a Lyft.

After several minutes of silence on the road, Asami glanced at Korra, who noticed.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Asami exhaled. “It’s just… I have to ask. You say you couldn’t stay because I needed rest, but what’s the real reason?”

“That _is_ one of the reasons,” Korra asserted. “But I also have to go check on my dog. Her name’s Naga, and she’s a big, adorable fluff ball. She’s been at home on her own for a long time today. I’d feel terrible leaving her alone overnight without someone to keep her company and take her out like I do when I’m at away games.”

Asami nodded. “I understand.”

“Yeah…” Korra trailed off.

They both fell quiet.

Asami said, “You don’t mind some music, do you?”

Korra shook her head. “Not at all.”

Asami reached to her console and turned on the radio, but she kept the volume low. The sounds of a soft, chill guitar drifted throughout the car.

Korra resisted groaning when she immediately recognized the song. She knew it because her parents would use this type of music to torture her as a child and get all mushy around her. Ironically—though she would never openly admit it—as she grew older, she developed a secret appreciation for the music, especially when she felt nostalgic. It was her guilty pleasure.

The song was _Make it with You_ by Bread.

 _How fitting_ , she thought to herself. The universe really was conspiring against her. Or maybe, Korra considered, Asami was totally playing that song on purpose! Because there she’d been, not even five minutes ago, essentially asking her why they were driving back to Anaheim Stadium to pick up Korra’s Jeep instead of fucking each other’s brains out in her condo.

Korra scoffed quietly. As enticing as that was, it wasn’t what she wanted out of whatever this was with Asami Sato. She turned to watch Asami when she heard Asami humming along with the words of the song, softly tapping the fingers of her good hand on the steering wheel. _She’s so perfect_ , Korra thought, sighing dreamily, and rushed to hide her dumb puppy-eyed gaze when Asami turned to look at her with a smile and quirked brow.

Korra looked out the window as she considered everything that had happened in the last couple of days. Pouting and frowning deeply, she realized that the way she was feeling was _exactly_ the reason why they wrote dumb songs like _Make it with You_. Two damn days—three, if she counted the preseason game when Asami picked on her—and she, Korra Winters, badass third basewoman for the Dodgers, was head over heels for the Angels’ starting catcher. Korra couldn’t figure out why this happened so suddenly, but it did. She figured, before the Freeway Series, that being with Asami was just a fantasy, a _really_ good one that would make her sigh wistfully when she thought about it non-sexually, and that really got her going when she did—her occasional wet dreams were downright numbing. But now, having spent time with Asami, Korra discovered it to be a constant rush, and they hadn’t even shagged yet! Every time Asami smiled at her, Korra felt like she’d burst in an explosion of glitter because, dammit, she made Asami smile.

It was for that reason that she couldn’t just bang Asami Sato and call it a day. If she was going to rock Asami’s socks off, she’d want to be to Asami what her favorite taco meal was: The Works! She didn’t want the awkwardness that proceeded one night stands. She didn’t want to do any walks of shame. If she slept with Asami, she wanted to stay the night again and again. She wanted the real deal. If Korra was going to go all in on Asami, she’d do it properly. She knew it was too soon to be thinking like this, but she couldn’t help herself. After months of daydreaming and fantasizing about the sassy catcher, and recently discovering that the attraction was mutual, Korra decided she had nothing to lose. Perhaps it was precipitous to think that Asami was it, that Asami was worth every risk, but Korra decided she’d take the chance to find out.

 _And if you're wondering what this song is leading to,_  
_I want to make it with you_ _  
I really think that we could make it, girl_

Hearing those lyrics, Korra groaned, but kept her eyes on the passenger window. “Jeez, this song is killing me!”

Korra felt Asami glance at her briefly. “Um… do you want me to turn it off?”

“No, it’s…” Korra paused, gathering every bit of courage she possessed for what she was about to say, and faced Asami. “Look, I really do like you, Asami. Like, really, _really_ , _really_ like you, so it’s not that I wasn’t tempted to throw caution to the wind and spend the night with you, because Lord knows I was. I’m pretty sure I would enjoy the hell out of it, actually, but it’s because I like you so much that I’d like to… I dunno, be serious about it.”

“Korra Winters,” Asami began, biting her lips despite the grin, and keeping her eyes on the road, “are you asking me to go steady with you?”

Korra snorted. “Really, Asami? You sound like an old fart from the fifties. But, jokes aside, I guess I am. I know it’s stupid to be so serious after two dates, but if I’m ever interested in someone, that’s it. I focus on that person. I don’t feel the need to look elsewhere.”

“I, um…” Asami coughed, trying to cover a laugh. “I knew you were intense, Korra, but damn.”

“I know!” Korra winced. “I _know_ , but… it’s who I am. I really love spending time with you, okay? And it’s not because of the sex, but if I did have sex with you, I wouldn’t want it to be just once. I haven’t had you, Asami, but you kissed me just once, and damn you! You’ve broken me, and now I feel like I wanna do _everything_ with you.”

Asami threw her head back, letting out a hearty laugh. “Oh, Korra… wow…”

“What? I’m just being honest!”

“I know, and I appreciate it. It’s just… I don’t think anyone’s ever asked me out like that before.”

“Is that bad?”

“No. It isn’t. It’s different, but _good_ different.”

“So… does that mean…?”

Asami glanced at her with the most gorgeous smile Korra ever saw in her life. Seriously, who was this woman?

“Yes.”

“Yes, you’ll go out with me?” Korra asked.

“Yes, doofus.”

“YES!” Korra fist pumped.

Asami laughed again. “Easy, tiger. We’re here.”

“Damn, we are! You’re quick!”

Asami smirked. “Only when I need to be.”

“I _bet_ you are.” Korra quipped. She also noticed that Asami had parked in front of her Jeep. It was easy to find since the parking lot was nearly empty. She unbuckled her seatbelt and turned to face Asami with a mischievous grin, and wiggled her eyebrows. “So… since we’re ‘going steady,’ that means I get kissing privileges, right?”

Asami snorted, unbuckled her seatbelt as well and leaned towards Korra. “Yes, Korra. You get _all_ the kissing privileges. Now, c’mere.”

Korra leaned in and their lips met in a searing kiss. Korra reached up and threaded her fingers through Asami’s black locks. It was something she’d been dying to do, and once she did, she had to resist shivering in delight; she didn’t want to let go ever again. Asami’s hair was so fucking soft. She knew this was going to be something she would do every chance she got from now on.

The kiss was brief, however. Asami pulled away, her fingertips caressing Korra’s cheek and her forehead remaining pressed against Korra’s. “Let’s not get carried away. You have a dog waiting for you at home.”

Korra sighed wistfully. “Okay.” She pecked Asami’s lips one last time. “Good night,” she said, then gave her another mischievous grin, “Babe.”

Asami cackled and pushed her away. “Get out of my car, nerd!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Make it with You](https://youtu.be/s0KXV0gB0dw) by Bread
> 
> I figured you'd want to know what that song sounds like. It's mad cheesy, I know, but I love it.


	6. Freeway Series, Game 3

“So… how’d it go, Sato?”

It was game three of the Freeway Series, and once again, Asami and Tahno sat companionably in the dugout. Asami, who had her arms crossed, and was chewing cinnamon gum, remained nonchalant and indifferent to his question. She was not about to start talking about her sex life with Tahno, of _all_ people.

“You should know, Tahno… a lady doesn’t kiss and tell.” Asami blew a bubble of her gum and kept chewing once it popped. She kept her eyes on the field. They were playing in Dodger Stadium today; it was the bottom of the third, and neither team scored. The irony of this wasn’t lost on her.

“Oooh-ho-ho,” Tahno sniggered gleefully.

Dammit. Clearly she hadn’t been all that nonchalant and indifferent because this asshole noticed the way her crossed arms tightened.

“Something tells me you wouldn’t be this wound up if you’d gotten laid last night. The Uhh-vatar didn’t put out, did she?” Tahno snorted and shook his head. “You’re losing your touch, Sato.”

Asami rolled her eyes. “Jeez, you’re more insufferable than usual today.”

“You know…” he paused for dramatic effect and leaned towards her, “if you’re really serious about getting into her knickers… my offer still stands.”

“You wanna get smacked again, don’t you?” Asami huffed and pushed him away. “Keep this shit up and it’ll be your pitching arm this time.”

He chuckled, deep and slow, and popped some sunflower seeds into his mouth. “Your loss, Sato. Your loss.”

“Now batting, number 4, The Avatar, Korra Winters!” the Dodger Stadium announcer shouted and the crowd went wild. It was her first at bat.

Tahno chuckled again. “Speak of the devil.”

Asami continued pretending to ignore him. As Korra walked towards the plate, a smooth guitar began playing throughout the stadium and Asami turned bright red. _Is she serious?_ She thought, but couldn’t help laughing.

_Make it with You._

Did she really pick _that_ as her walk-up song for this game? Once at the plate, Korra looked into the visiting team dugout to make eye contact with Asami. She grinned and winked, and Asami shook her head.

“That absolute nerd…” she murmured, grinning.

The Dodgers fans throughout the stands, completely oblivious to the significance of this song, played along with it and swayed romantically. The largest screen of the stadium even showed some fans waving their smartphones with a candle flickering on their screens. Asami snorted and shook her head at the utter ridiculousness of this whole spectacle.

“My God, you two are gonna make me gag. Just fuck already.”

Asami turned to Tahno who shook his head along with her. She returned her gaze to Korra, who took her stance and prepared to receive the first pitch.

 _I’m working on it,_ she thought to herself.

* * *

Asami was tying her shoes in the women’s locker room when her phone pinged. The game ended with the Angels’ loss. It was a good day for the Dodgers, and especially for Korra, who batted 4 out of 5, hit a homerun, and racked up three RBIs. Her defensive game was also on point. As a matter of fact, Korra’s homerun set the Dodgers on a roll, and the Angels were unable to keep up.

Picking her phone up, Asami looked at the text and smiled.

 **21:33:45 Korra:** Hey Babe 

 **21:34:10 Asami:** Hi Korra 

 **21:34:24 Korra:** So I’m feeling like a winner tonight 

 **21:34:38 Asami:** You’re not just texting me to rub it in, are you? 

 **21:35:02 Korra:** I’m TOTALLY texting you to rub it in. And also because I hope you don’t have any plans tonight. I’m coming over to your place, and I’m bringing Naga with me… if you know what I mean… 

Asami bit her lips, barely containing her grin as she read Korra’s message, and knowing _exactly_ what Korra meant—because, damn, _finally_! She typed a response.

 **21:35:29 Asami:** You mean I finally get to meet the big giant fluff ball? 

She wouldn’t call herself Asami Sato if she didn’t fuck with the Avatar at least a little bit.

 **21:36:01 Korra:** Yes, but also OTHER stuff  

Asami felt the heat on her cheeks intensify when she read this. She couldn’t stop grinning.

 **21:36:10 Asami:** What other stuff?

**21:36:19 Korra:**

Asami snickered. She placed the phone next to her and finished tying her shoes. _Let her stew a bit on that. I want her to come clean and just say it._

The phone pinged again. She picked it up and read.

 **21:37:03 Korra:** Listen, you! I’m coming over and I’m bringing my dog and your favorite tacos. Deal with it!  

Asami threw her head back and laughed. _Close enough._

 **21:38:58 Asami:** Sure, Korra, whatever you say. See you soon.

**21:39:01 Korra:**

Smirking, Asami shoved her phone in her pocket. Once she finished getting ready and slung her duffel bag over a shoulder, she rushed out of the locker room, barely waving to her teammates. Even with the Angels losing, this night was starting to look up.

She drove home like a mad woman, despite her injured wrist— _it’s getting better!_ She argued with herself—and hurried into her building once she arrived. Asami wanted to ensure her condo, particularly her bedroom, was presentable before Korra arrived, so she bypassed the elevator to climb up the stairs, skipping two at a time.

Slightly winded, Asami opened the door to her condo, tossed her duffel bag into her coat closet, and made a beeline for her bedroom. She picked up strewn dirty laundry, organized her shoes, and remade her bed with clean linens. She even spritzed a little perfume because one could never be too prepared, and according to her secret _Asami Sato Sexytimes Rule Book,_ a good fragrance helped set the mood.

Asami looked around, wondering what else she needed. When it clicked, she rushed to the kitchen pantry and took several bottles of water to put on her nightstand. If she had any say in the matter, she would be banging Korra multiple times tonight, and she didn’t want trivial interruptions like thirst. Korra was doing her part in preparing for tonight by bringing food and Naga, so Asami needed to do hers.

She stood and appraised her room, nodding in approval. “Perfect.”

Asami walked out of the bedroom and left the nightstand lamp on, just in case, because if they got into it in the living room, she was sure they’d need a light to guide them to the bed. She moved on to the living room to fluff up the couch cushions, and fold the throw blankets. She was in the kitchen putting a few dirty dishes in her dishwasher when she heard her phone ping.

 **23:31:03 Korra:** I’m coming up Babe. Open the door slowly when I ring the bell and ignore Naga until I tell you it’s okay to say hello to her. She’s still an excitable puppy and I don’t want her to tackle you. 

 **23:31:22 Asami:** okay 

Putting her phone back in her pocket, Asami pulled the tie from her pony tail and combed her fingers through her hair, fluffing it up just right, and ensuring it tumbled luxuriously over one shoulder.

Then the doorbell rang.  

Asami moved towards the door and opened it just a crack. Korra stood there with a duffel bag hanging off one of her shoulders, a paper bag of food in one hand, and a leash in the other. She wore jeans and a tank top, and, holy shit, those arms! She gave Asami a crooked grin when they made eye contact, and Asami felt a little heat dusting her cheeks and _a lot_ of heat somewhere else. Christ, she had it _bad._

“Hey,” Asami said.

“Hey,” Korra replied. “Open the door slowly, and don’t make eye contact with her, just keep looking at me.”

 _As if that’s hard,_ Asami thought. She did as instructed, and her eyes widened when she finally noticed Naga in her peripheral vision, sitting next to Korra, panting and wagging her tail excitedly. “Korra.”

“Yes?”

“When you said you were bringing your dog, I didn’t realize you’d be bringing a horse.”

Korra cackled, and moved to embrace Asami in greeting, pecking her softly on the lips. “I told you she was a big fluff ball.”

Naga was pure white with a button black nose. She had to be at least ninety pounds. Not only that, but she was the fluffiest dog she’d ever laid eyes on. Asami couldn’t wait to bury her face in that fur.

Still in their embrace, Asami brushed her nose against the side of Korra’s neck, and squeezed tight. She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes in pleasure. Korra smelled fresh and clean, with a hint of Armani Code. She absolutely loved it. “Understatement of the year. What breed is she?”

“Alaskan Malamute.”

“You said she was still a puppy, and I’m pretty sure she weighs more than me.”

Korra laughed. “Don’t be dramatic, she only weighs as much as a healthy tween, and she _is_ a puppy. She’s barely gonna be two years old next month.”

“Come on in,” Asami said, ending their embrace and moving aside.

“Thank you.” Korra faced Naga. “C’mon, Naga. Now you best behave, girl. We are guests here.” Korra turned to Asami and offered her the paper bag. “Tacos. You look amazing, by the way.”

 _And I wanna rip your clothes off._ Asami took the bag, blushing as she closed the door. “Thank you. You know, Korra, if you want us to work, we’re gonna need some more variety in our diet.”

“Dude, tacos is the food of the gods. Do not blaspheme like that again in my presence,” Korra said as she unleashed Naga and pointed to the floor. “Sit.”

Naga obeyed, barely, it seemed, with the way her butt still wiggled in excitement.

“We are professional athletes. Next time we’re getting salad and chicken breast,” Asami decreed.

Korra smiled and rolled her eyes at Asami. “Yeah, yeah. Now, c’mere. Let her sniff your hand.”

Asami approached Naga and offered her palm. Naga didn’t bother sniffing and went for a lick instead, making Asami giggle. “I think she smells the tacos.”

Korra’s smile turned lopsided. “Or maybe she just likes you. You can go ahead and pet her now if you want.”

Asami handed the bag of tacos back to Korra and kneeled in front of the dog. “Hi, Naga. Aren’t you a big beautiful girl?”

Naga whimpered and squirmed at this point, and pushed against Asami’s chest, forcing Asami to sit on her hinds. Asami laughed and wrapped her arms around Naga in an attempt to keep the dog from licking and sniffing too close to her face; she did not want her makeup ruined. She rubbed Naga’s coat and inhaled; as she suspected, her fur was soft and she smelled like dog shampoo. Even Naga’s dog breath was tame, Asami noticed, deciding that Korra probably gave her a milkbone before coming up. “You are so darn cute!” She tightened her embrace and groaned. “She’s literally the puppy version of you.”

“Heh, no wonder she likes you so much already.” Korra pulled a wool blanket from her bag and spread it in a corner of the living room floor. She then pulled out some worn dog toys and placed them on the blanket. Lastly, she took out two bowls, and a freezer gallon ziploc with dry dog food. She poured some into one of the bowls, and put the bag back in the duffel.

“Can I get some water?” Korra waved the second bowl.

“Of course.” Asami released Naga and got to her feet smiling; Korra was a really good and responsible pet owner. “Tap or bottled?”

“Tap. Naga ain’t that fancy.”

Asami laughed as they walked to the kitchen. Naga following behind happily, and Korra helped herself to the tap in the sink. She returned with a full bowl to the living room and placed it on the floor next to the dog food.

“Naga, come here,” Korra called. Naga walked over to Korra and Korra pointed at the wool blanket. “Down.”

Naga lay on the wool blanket and looked at Korra expectantly. “Stay,” Korra ordered and finally turned to Asami. “Now that Naga’s settled, tacos?”

“No,” Asami said. “It’s late and I’m not hungry for those kinds of tacos.”

The look Asami gave Korra left no room for doubts. With half-lidded eyes, and a crooked smile, Korra said: “Do you wanna eat me instead?”

“Fuck,” Asami said, walking towards Korra and leaping into her arms. Korra staggered a bit but held her ground as Asami wrapped her legs around Korra’s hips. “I thought you’d never ask.”


	7. Sexytimes

Asami threaded her fingers through Korra’s hair and pulled her in, kissing her deeply, moaning at the closeness and the taste of Korra’s lips. Minty fresh.

Korra pulled away, but kept her forehead pressed against Asami’s. “Which way’s the bedroom?”

“Straight down the hall.”

Korra adjusted her hold on Asami and began to walk, smirking. “I told you I could carry you.”

Asami nibbled one of Korra’s earlobes; it was near her lips, so she couldn’t help herself. “The less you talk, the faster we get there. Now go towards the light.”

Asami felt the rumble of Korra’s chest against her own from her chuckle. “So bossy.”

“Damn right.”

At last, they made it to the room and Korra crawled onto the center of the bed on her knees, still with Asami in her arms, and leaned forward, settling them in. Asami groaned, loving the feel of Korra’s weight on her. She placed soft kisses against the side of Korra’s neck. It felt so damn good.

“Asami…” Korra whispered. She pulled up enough to look down at Asami.

Asami threaded her fingers through Korra’s hair. She looked into Korra’s half-lidded eyes, and could barely make out the blue of their irises.

“Yes?” she whispered back.

“I can’t believe this is actually happening.” She brushed her lips against Asami’s.

Asami smiled softly. “How come?”

“I… I dreamed of you a few times, you know? Before the Freeway Series.”

Asami’s soft smile turned wicked. “You had wet dreams about me before you took me out for tacos? You can’t get any gayer than that, Korra.”

Korra dropped her head on Asami’s shoulder, groaning. “Dammit, Asami I was going for a romantic mood!”

Asami giggled, and gently pulled Korra’s head up to look into her eyes. “You wanna know what I think?”

Korra pouted; Asami could tell she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear what Asami had to say.

“You weren’t the only one having dreams, so I’m glad this time it _is_ real.” And with that, Asami kissed Korra again. She felt the grin and the vibration of Korra’s relieved chuckle against her lips.

Asami pushed her groin against Korra’s hips, undulating against them. Korra ground back, moaning. Asami exploited this opportunity and stroke her tongue against Korra’s bottom lip, urging her to deepen the kiss. Korra’s response was automatic and eager.

Asami’s lips moved smoothly to nip along Korra’s jaw and throat. Her hands made their way to her neck, kneading and making Korra grunt in approval. They continued on to her back, and pulled at Korra’s shirt in annoyance.

“Take this thing off,” she huffed.

Korra lifted herself from Asami and yanked her shirt off.

“Your bra, too.”

Korra snickered and pulled her sports bra over her head. “So damn bossy.”

“I’m in a hurry,” Asami explained, biting her lip and sitting up to press her face between Korra’s breasts, sighing in delight. They were the perfect size for her hands, and tipped with the most beautiful rich caramel colored nipples she’d ever seen. She bet they tasted just like it, too. She reached up and smooshed Korra’s breasts even more against her face, groaning. “Holy shit.”

She felt the vibration of Korra’s laughter against her eyelids. “I _knew_ you were a boobs girl.”

“These are wonderful.” She kissed each nipple, grinning wickedly, and Korra shook her head, falling back into the bed with a blissful sigh.

Asami followed along, and when she settled on Korra’s body, she felt Korra’s laughter, and it felt lovely.

Korra reached up to gather Asami’s hair. “Your hair tickles my skin,” Korra explained.

Asami hummed, intent on resuming her appreciation of those irresistible caramel-tipped breast, but was prevented from doing so when Korra plucked at Asami’s shirt. “You can’t ask me to take my clothes off and not do the same, Asami. That’s totally unfair.”

“Fine,” Asami sassed, smirking as she sat up.

Korra settled on her elbows, watching with eager anticipation.

Biting her bottom lip, and determined to tattooing this moment into Korra’s brain, Asami guided her hands to her chest, groping them with wanton, and watched with lustful green eyes as Korra swallowed, enraptured. Her hands continued lower, grazing down her stomach, and even though they were her own hands, the way Korra’s eyes followed them intensified the burning trail they left in their wake. They reached the hem of her shirt at last, and Asami couldn’t help grinning at the way Korra licked her lips, at the way she’d forgotten how to blink. Asami lifted the hem of her shirt, all while arching her back just enough to make her breasts stand out and rolling her head back just enough to expose the most sensitive skin of her throat. She flipped her hair as she tossed the shirt, and gave Korra her most smoldering look.

Korra’s jaw dropped. “Oh… wow…”

Asami hummed, pleased with the results.

“Take that off, too,” Korra jutted her chin at Asami’s bra.

Asami grinned and reached behind her to undo the clasps of her bra. “Who’s being bossy now?”

Korra gave Asami a cocky grin, but the grin vanished when the bra straps loosened from Asami’s freckled shoulders. Asami noticed the way Korra’s blue eyes darkened when she reached for the straps and pulled them away. Korra moved to sit up, but Asami wanted her right where she was and pushed her back into the mattress.

“Stay.”

Korra gazed at Asami surprised. For a moment she looked like she wanted to challenge Asami’s command, but decided to do as she was told.

Asami straightened on her knees, unbuttoned her jeans, and pulled the zipper. She slid her hands inside her panties, closing her eyes as she threw her head back and moaned in delight. “Mmm… Korra…”

“Oh, my fuck…”

Asami released a deep sigh when she pulled her fingers out, and nipped at them with another moan. When her smokey green eyes landed on Korra, she couldn’t suppress the urge to laugh. “Oh, my God, Korra, your face!”

Korra woke from her daze and pouted. “Asshole,” she grumbled.

Asami began to push her pants off, but could only get so far on her knees. “In hindsight, we should’ve done this before we jumped into bed.”

Korra also reached down to undo and push her jeans off in a hurry. “I dunno… I _really_ enjoyed what you just did.”

“Did you, now?” Asami huffed, shuffling to pull her pants off. She tossed them aside when she was done. “Still, this totally ruins the mood.”

Korra lifted her hips to push her pants off as well. “Take those pretty knickers off, and I’ll show you a mood.”

“These are _not_ knickers, excuse you,” Asami explained in mock offense, pulling on the legs of Korra’s pants to hurry her undressing along. “These are lace panties, and I thought you’d appreciate how they look on me.”

“Believe me, I definitely do, but after what you just did, I’m more interested in what’s _in_ them.”

Once Asami tossed Korra’s jeans aside, she removed her panties, and then helped Korra with her boyshorts. Naked at last, Asami’s hair fell over them in a cascade of dark ink when she settled on Korra, and Korra gave her a dumb grin. Asami returned the same dumb smile and pecked Korra’s lips, then moved to nibble at her jaw. She continued down her throat, her collar bones, and finally paused at her breasts once again.

“I’m not done with these,” she murmured, cupping Korra’s left breast and taking the nipple into her mouth. Korra responded by arching her back, moaning, and gripping Asami’s black tresses. Loving that reaction, Asami licked and suckled teasingly, humming intermittently to allow the vibrations of her voice to stimulate Korra further. Asami did this while Korra rocked her hips against her. She loved the way Korra chanted Asami’s name in broken whispers and painted her skin with her arousal.

“Keep doing that,” Korra hissed when Asami combined the ferocity of her lashing tongue with a firm suckle, and who was Asami to argue?

With her moaning growing in frequency, Korra’s rocking sped up, and, suddenly, she stiffened under Asami and released a helpless wail. The pattern of her hips’ rocking resumed, albeit erratic, and Asami paused in realization. She lifted her head to look at Korra, who released the luscious hair to cover her face and take deep breaths.

“Did you just…?”

Korra groaned under her hands. “... yes.”

“Holy shit.”

“This’s never happened before, okay?” Korra grumbled, defensive and bashful. “You’re… you’re just _really_ good at that.”

Asami was smug as she flipped her hair back and crawled back up to kiss Korra. When they parted, Asami grinned at the way Korra’s hands reached down and cupped her ass cheeks with firm grips.

“Hmmm… you’re an ass girl, aren’t you?”

Korra bit her lip, trying to contain her grin. “I’m an _Asami_ girl, but this,” she slapped both her hands against Asami’s buttocks and jiggled them playfully, “is one magnificent ass!”

With that, Korra popped her hips just right and flipped them over.

Asami squealed in surprise, and threw her arms around Korra’s neck. “Smooth,” she murmured against Korra’s lips.

Korra dipped lower and nibbled Asami’s earlobe playfully. “My turn now.”

Korra moved methodically, overwhelming Asami, forcing her to bite her lips because she knew she’d be loud, and then Korra wouldn’t let her live it down. Maybe once they became more comfortable with each other, she’d let it all out.

Gliding her lips over Asami’s throat, collar bones, and finally, her breasts, Korra took one nipple into her mouth and sucked. Asami looked down, and shuddered when she saw Korra’s eyes on her, keenly watching every single reaction, learning them, it seemed. She released Asami’s nipple with a pop and Asami gasped.

“I want to go down on you,” Korra breathed, reaching up to brush a random lock of black hair away from Asami’s forehead. “I want to taste you,” she licked her lips, “drive you completely insane. Is that okay?”

Asami just about died. “Fuck, yes.” She pumped her groin against Korra’s stomach. The intensity of Korra’s gaze, the assuredness of her hushed promise, it all drove Asami insane. “Hurry.”

Korra smirked, giving her nipple a playful nip before she spoke. “Say please.”

“Dammit, Korra!”

Snickering, Korra gave one last swipe of her tongue to Asami’s nipple and continued trailing kisses along Asami’s body, running her fingernails on her skin—sometimes firm enough to leave faint red streaks, and other times just barely touching to make her shiver.

Asami settled on her elbows when Korra’s kisses made it to the apex of her legs, and Asami opened them wide; she was _so_ ready for this. Korra hummed appreciatively, lifting Asami’s thighs and throwing them over her dark shoulders. Asami dropped back into the mattress when Korra gave her a knowing smirk, licked her inner thighs, and allowed her breath to wash over Asami’s arousal.

Asami knew just how wet she was, and surprisingly, it thrilled her that Korra could see it, too. “Korra… _please…_ ” she breathed.

At last, Korra stroked her tongue against Asami—one single, long swipe—and Asami swore she saw stars. Wailing, she arched her back again, and tried to push herself more firmly against Korra’s lips. Korra resisted her eagerness, throwing one of her forearms over her stomach to keep her in place.

“Relax, Babe,” she murmured against Asami’s heated center. “Just lay back; let me take care of you.”

Asami quivered, breathless, and reached down to thread her fingers through Korra’s hair. Her rolling hips struggled against Korra’s strength, but she couldn’t remain still even if someone promised her the Angels were guaranteed a spot in the World Series. She felt Korra move in again, her mouth wide open. Her upper lip brushed against her clit, and her tongue dragged through her wet folds again and again, lapping up every bit of her essence.

“Asami…”

She heard her name as if from a distance, trembling at the way Korra whispered it against her.

“You taste so fucking good.”

“Korra…”

Korra lapped at her folds, and as she did so, the hand that was holding Asami down reached and began to draw consistent circles over her clit. That did her in.

“Fuck!” Asami bit her lips to turn her shout into a groan, and one of her hands released Korra’s hair to reach up and knead her own breast. She both heard and felt Korra moaning against her in approval, licking her center with firmness.

At last, the fluttering between her legs settled, and Asami felt herself melt into the sheets. Korra was not letting up, however, so that lazy, elated feeling that usually followed her orgasm didn’t last. Instead of lifting her head to make fun of Asami for how quickly she’d come, Korra only moved her lips up and sucked on Asami’s already sensitive clit.

“Korra…” Asami breathed, helpless.

“Not done.”

“I—… oh…” Asami she couldn’t remember what she was about to say. She felt Korra’s hand leave her thigh and sneak under to press two fingers against her sex. They swiped up and down, spreading her wetness, and then settled at her entrance, pushing in slowly. Asami’s back arched once again. “Korra…!”

Korra’s fingers pumped into her slow and firm. Asami lifted her head enough to risk looking down, and what she saw made her drop her head back in ecstacy. Her nipples were taught, chest was rising and falling rapidly, all while bouncing at the cadence of Korra’s thrusts, and, best of all, Korra’s blue eyes were dark with lust. Her lover wore a frown of determination, and Asami squealed when she felt her fingers curl. She’d been feeling her second climax bubbling up for several moments now, but the continuous stimulation inside her, and one last persistent suck on her clit jolted her into her second orgasm. She could hear the rush of blood in her ears, and through it, the way Korra moaned in approval.

Korra didn’t let up; Asami could feel her lover’s relentless tongue lashing against her clit, and her fingertips, just as insistent, pumping, doing their best to drag out Asami’s pleasure as long as possible. And they did. Her body felt both hot and cold, and Asami couldn’t take much more.

“Korra…!” she gasped, reaching to grasp Korra’s head and pull it away from her. “Oh, God, Korra… s-stop…”

Korra moaned one last time before she pulled away. She pressed lingering kisses on Asami’s thighs, and gently pulled her fingers out to lick them, humming at the taste. She then kissed her way up Asami’s body, pausing to tease both her nipples. By the time she made it to Asami’s lips, Asami was still going through aftershocks.

Asami hummed, tasting herself on Korra’s lips and loving it.

Korra pulled away. “I would’ve kept going but you stopped me.”

Asami chuckled. “You were trying to put me into a sex coma.”

Korra groaned and dipped her lips to Asami’s throat, nipping playfully. “Like that’s a bad thing.”

Asami threaded her fingers through Korra’s hair, urging Korra to meet her eyes. “It is when you haven’t had your turn.”

Korra dipped her lips into Asami’s. “What makes you think I didn’t enjoy doing all that to you?”

Asami hummed between kisses. “I can tell you did. I’m not sure I can move, but I can still make you come. Sit up, and straddle me.”

Korra chuckled low. “Yes, boss.”

Asami sat up as well, and reached up to caress Korra’s cheek. They kissed softly, and Asami smirked into the kiss as she moved her hand down to grip one of Korra’s ass cheeks. Her grip was gentle at best, since it was the hand with the injured wrist, but it was still nice.

Korra pulled away, grinning and throwing her arms around Asami’s shoulders to play with Asami’s black tresses. “Look at you getting fresh.”

“You did it first, Avatar,” Asami reminded. “Lift up a little bit.”

Korra lifted herself enough for Asami to place her good hand in between them. Asami pressed her hand against Korra’s sex, kneading steady. Korra was more than ready, Asami decided, and pressed two fingers against her entrance. She looked into Korra’s sultry eyes, and Korra nodded. Asami pushed her fingers in.

“Keep going,” Korra breathed. “It feels good.”

Asami continued pushing until her fingers bottomed out. Korra dropped her head on Asami’s shoulder and rocked her hips, slowly at first, but gradually speeding up. She released a tiny whimper every time she pushed down, and it drove Asami crazy. Soon, Korra was churning her hips at a quick pace, and though Asami’s hand and wrist started to burn after a while, the way Korra sounded, the way she looked, so lost in her pleasure, made it completely worth it.

“Almost there,” Korra warned, breathless.

Korra tightened around Asami’s fingers, and to tip her over the edge, Asami curled them just right, and dipped her lips to suckle on one of Korra’s nipples.

“A-Asami!”

Asami felt the tempo of Korra’s rocking falter. Asami pumped once, twice, and Korra’s walls fluttered. Asami felt Korra clench around her fingers, but it didn’t stop her from brushing her fingertips over Korra’s swollen spot, and pushing her palm to press against her clit. Korra dropped her head on Asami’s shoulder, shivering, kissing her neck and breathing deeply. Once her climax tapered off, Korra dropped back onto the mattress, thoroughly pleased.

Asami followed along, settling on top of her and kissing her lovingly. “Good?”

Korra’s hands settled on Asami, one on one of her thighs, and the other over her back. “Perfect,” she murmured, her words tickling Asami’s lips. “You know what, though?”

“What?”

Korra smirked. “Don’t fall asleep. I’ll be ready to go again in a bit.”


	8. World Series, Game 1

“Now batting, number 22, Asami Sato,” said the Dodger Stadium announcer. 

There was a mixture of cheering and boos coming from the stands. It was only natural, Korra thought, given it was a full house for the first LA World Series, or as many liked to call it, the Freeway World Series.

The entire Los Angeles region pulsed with excitement. The Dodgers had a great season, and even better playoffs. They breezed right through it, and the running joke among fans was that the Dodgers played the other National League teams as a courtesy. The Angels started off as a wildcard team, and pulled miraculous victory after miraculous victory. Nobody could have predicted it, but they played their hearts out to be there. 

Disgruntled baseball fans thought it dumb that two teams from the same city ended up playing against each other in the World Series, but Korra didn’t care. New York had its own Subway World Series a few years back and people complained just as much. 

What Korra cared about was her amazing girlfriend, who was settling into her batting stance. Asami was a right-handed hitter, which meant Korra had the most epic view of her ass. She stopped herself from grinning like a lovesick fool; she needed to focus. It was hard to, though. They’d spent the night at Korra’s home, and when they woke up, Korra barely got the opportunity to rip herself away from Asami’s body to take Naga out and do her business. When Naga was done and Korra returned to bed, Asami jumped her bones, and Korra lost count of all the times she came. 

The Dodgers pitcher threw the first pitch and it was a ball. Even though there were already two outs, there was a runner on first, so he needed to be cautious with Asami; she was a formidable hitter. 

As Korra got to know Asami better, she learned how focused and dedicated Asami was to her craft. Asami would spend hours on end watching game films of opposing teams she’d play next. On days when she wasn’t playing, she’d still work out, stay long after practice was over, and mentor rookies. And she was so damn healthy! Ever since they started dating, Korra couldn’t remember not eating so many greens. Korra secretly appreciated it, of course, but whined openly. She missed eating tacos with the frequency she did when she was single. But she had to admit: eating healthy made her feel and, therefore, play better. Sure, Korra wasn’t entirely oblivious to how important a balanced diet was for professional athletes, but she was an incredibly physical person, so she figured she’d burn off all the junk food in no time. Asami was having none of that, and Korra knew from day one how scary Asami could be when she was pissed. 

The pitcher threw the next pitch, and Asami leaned back. Another ball.

The way the world viewed her relationship with Asami was the least of Korra’s problems. When the Dodgers and the Angels won their league’s respective championships, Korra was pulled aside by every bigwig in the Dodgers’ hierarchy to be grilled on whether she could perform against Asami and her team. The same happened with Asami. Both were offended that these people would even question their professionalism. Korra was particularly miffed, but when they asked her if she would’ve tackled Asami the same way she’d done before they started dating, she understood their concerns. Fortunately, when the Angels demonstrated that they could win the American League Championship and go to the World Series, she and Asami sat down and talked. They would not divulge to their teams what they learned about each other regarding the way they played. Outside of that, they promised each other they’d do their best to help their respective teams win, no matter what. It was an awkward situation, but in the end, neither team could afford keeping them off the field. As for what would happen when one of the teams won, they decided they’d cross that bridge when they got there.

The pitcher threw the next pitch, and Korra knew what would happen before it did. Dumb pitcher. Either that wasn’t the pitch he intended, or he got annoyed with all the balls he kept throwing. He should’ve just put a pretty bow on it.

The contact between Asami’s bat and the ball echoed throughout Dodger Stadium and the ball soared through the sky. It was going, going, gone! The Angels fans in the stands went wild. Korra watched Asami rounding the bases, taking her sweet ass time, thoroughly pleased with herself. Korra looked away to keep a straight face. The swag in Asami’s victory lap did  _ things _ to her.

When Asami jogged past third base, she grinned and winked at Korra, and Korra’s face was that awkward combination of a pout and a smirk. When the Dodgers shortstop shook her head with disapproval, Korra shrugged. What was she supposed to do? 

Korra loved Asami; how could she be mad about Asami’s happiness? This damn World Series was such a fucking catch-22. Korra knew how hard Asami worked to be where she was. Korra busted her ass, too. 

As they settled into their relationship, they learned to relax. Their competitive nature needed to stay in the field because, dammit, being in competition 24/7, even in the sack, was fucking exhausting. Once this happened, everything was laid out in the open. The joys, the insecurities, the secrets. It was overwhelming and terrifying at first, but once it was all said and done, it was liberating, and it cemented their feelings and commitment for one another. Korra never felt more comfortable around someone else before.

They put their demons out in the open. And after it all, it made her love Asami more. Asami’s flaws only made her more human; she wasn’t some goddess on a pedestal. She was the woman that loved Korra, and would give her everything. Except the World Series because contractually she  _ couldn’t. _ But Korra wouldn’t let go of this incredible woman who loved her despite the flaws.

The first half of the inning finished without much fanfare after Asami’s two-run home run. Korra caught a groundout that she fired straight to first; it was an easy out. The Angels were up two-oh, and that was not a good way to start the World Series for the Dodgers on their home turf, but Korra wasn’t worried yet. The game just began and there’d be plenty of opportunities to even the score.

Korra jogged to the Dodgers dugout and slumped onto a bench. She tossed her glove aside, took her hat off, but kept it in her hands, lost in thought as she played with the stitching.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Startled out of her reverie, Korra looked to where the voice came from and found Aang sitting next to her. 

“Hey, Aang.”

“What’s up? Worried about your girlfriend already kicking your ass?”

Korra chuckled. “Nah. We talked about this whole World Series thing. We’re fine. We’re just gonna play ball, and do our best.” And then fuck a lot. But Korra didn’t say that out loud. She was certain Aang would blush like a glowstick.

“So what’s eatin’ at’cha, then? Usually you’re bouncing all over the dugout during games like this. Remember that one time we tied you to a pole?”

“How could I forget?” Korra smirked. 

“So if it’s not the World Series or Sato, what is it?”

Korra pursed her lips. “Well, it is Asami, but not because of the World Series.”

“Trouble in paradise?”

“No, we’re fine. As a matter of fact, we’re great. It’s just… how did you know Katara was the one?”

“Honestly?”

Korra rolled her eyes. “No, just lie to me, it’ll make me feel better.” 

Aang threw his head back and laughed. “No respect for your elders.”

“You’re not that old, Aang. But, seriously, how did you know?”

“I knew from the moment I saw her.”

“For real?”

Aang chuckled. “Yeah. I asked her out for tea, and she turned me down.”

Korra laughed. “How’d you get her to eventually say yes?”

Aang shrugged with a cocky grin. “My awesome charm, of course.”

Korra snorted. “If your awesome charm worked so well, she would’ve said yes the first time you asked.”

Aang laughed. “You’re probably right. All kidding aside, I think I kind of grew on her. I’d gotten injured in one of our practices, and she was my physical therapist. I asked her out during our first session. I’d always talk her ear off every time I came in. I thought she was so smart and so pretty. Once I got better and I no longer needed her help, I asked her out one more time, and that time, she actually said yes.”

Korra grinned; that kind of perseverance sounded oddly familiar.

“I rambled some more at the teashop. She looked so pretty and relaxed outside work, I couldn’t help myself and asked her to be my girlfriend!”

Korra laughed. “Seriously?” 

Aang shrugged. “She turned me down in a heartbeat.”

Korra chuckled. “Damn, Aang, I thought I was intense. At least I waited to ask Asami out on our second date!”

“And?”

This time it was Korra’s turn to shrug with a cocky grin. “She said yes, of course. My charm, unlike yours, is actually effective.”

“Well, good for you,” Aang snorted. “Anyway, Katara told me she’d like to spend more time together and see how it goes. I guess I grew on her some more because the rest is history.” 

“Yeah…”

After a moment of silence, Aang said, “So, you wanna marry her or what?”

Korra rubbed the back of her neck. “I mean, yes, but not right now. We’ve only been dating for four months! I’m not trying to scare her off, you know.”

“Korra, you’ve always been intense. You and I have that in common. Sometimes you just have to go for it, you know? You don’t have to talk marriage or make undying promises.” Aang grinned and bumped his shoulder against Korra’s. “You know… in my experience, if they’re still around after you’ve made a move, that means they’re at least thinking about it. So trust your gut. If you strike out, just remember, you’ll always have your next at bat.”

Korra nodded. Coincidentally, the first inning ended at the same time their conversation did, and it was time to go back to the field.

Korra focused on the game, but the thought of Asami lingered on. Baseball was slow enough that she could do both things. Not much happened until the bottom of the second, when it was finally Korra’s turn to bat. Korra could see Asami’s eyes crinkling and her smile through the catcher mask. 

“You ready to strike out, nerd?”

Korra couldn’t help her lopsided grin. “I’m gonna make you eat those words.” She settled into her stance and saw the pitcher nod.

Asami snickered from her crouched position. “Oh, Korra… you know I’d rather eat something else.”

“Strike!”

“Fuck.” Korra shook her head and stepped back, narrowing her eyes at Asami. “You play dirty, Sato.”

“Okay, two things. One: Sato’s my father. Two: that’s not what you said last night,  _ or  _ this morning.” 

Korra grinned and shook her head as she stepped back into position, swinging her bat in preparation. She wondered what the umpire behind them thought of all this embarrassing nonsense. “Un-fucking-believable.”

“That is our plan tonight.”

“Strike!”

Korra blinked. The pitch barreled through while she was too busy deciphering Asami’s quick-witted flirting, and she was going to strikeout at this rate.

“Are you serious!” She stepped back again and looked down at Asami, whose shoulders were shaking in quiet laughter as she threw the ball back to the pitcher. 

“Can’t handle a little pressure, hmmm? Where’s your guitar when you need it?”

“Fuck you, Asami.”

More snickering. “Language, Korra. There are children watching.”

The next pitch came, and Korra swung. To her misfortune, the ball veered towards the stands. 

“Foul ball,” called the umpire in a monotone voice. 

Asami tsked. 

Korra scoffed. “You know, I thought we talked about this. I thought we weren’t going to fuck with each other on the field and play fairly.” 

“I can’t help myself, Baby. You’re just so gullible and adorably innocent.” 

Korra pouted and swung her bat loosely, away from the plate. She’d take her sweet ass time getting ready if that’s how Asami wanted to play. “Talk all the shit you want, Asami, but you know what? At the end of the day, you’re still coming home with me.”

“Is that right?”

“Hell, yeah. And you know what else, Babe?”

“What?” 

Korra went into position. “I finally figured out why you wear the number 22.”

“Yeah, why’s that?”

The pitcher nodded, and Korra tensed. The pitch bulleted from the mound, and to Korra, it was just beautiful. She swung and basked in that amazing feeling she got every time she knew she hit a ball outta the park. Grinning, she turned to Asami, who was standing now and looking at the ball as it soared through the sky. 

“You wear the number 22 because two plus two equals four.” And with all the swagger in the world, she shrugged and tossed the bat. She had a run to score.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so, that's the end of this silly story. It goes without saying, but it bears repeating again and again: thanks to [DominicKnight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DominicKnight/pseuds/DominicKnight) and [campaignofmadness](http://campaignofmadness.tumblr.com/) for all their help. They are just so damn amazing. The bestest!!
> 
> Last, but certainly not least, thank you so much for dropping by to read. Thanks to all the people who provided feedback, and commented. :D
> 
> P.S. I forgot to put this up when I released the chapter, but tying players to a poll IS a thing in baseball, lol. https://youtu.be/BghHQJLhSyc


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